Extensions
by Countess of Cobert
Summary: This is just going to be a series of drabbles, covering all six series, that basically extend Cobert scenes we saw in the show. It will mainly be just fluff, but Cobert fluff has been missing from my life, so I thought, why not!
1. Chapter 1

AN: This one is set during the hunt in episode 3 of series 1. Cobert remain at home during this hunt, and I wondered how that turned out for them. I hope you enjoy it, and please do leave a review. I apologise for any mistakes, I have only very quickly read it through.

P.s. important AN at the bottom.

* * *

She feels his hand nudge the base of her back the second the last horse turns away from the house. She'd anticipated this, right from the moment he has told her two days ago that he wasn't going to be riding in the hunt she knew he had something planned other than the 'paperwork' he had cited as his excuse.

"Do you not worry about her, riding out with a group of strangers?" They turn to walk into the library and she finds that rather than his body moving further away from hers as she had turned to speak to him, that he's slipped even closer.

"Mary is the most capable horsewoman I know." His hand slips a little lower on her back and she has to suck in a breath to stop herself from gasping. She searches her head for another snippet of conversation, she is not going to let him rule her so easily, not when they have guests staying in the house that could come back from the hunt at any time.

"Not something she gets from her mama." She lowers herself onto the settee and is not at all surprised when Robert decides to sit beside her.

"Cora, I've told you before, there is nothing wrong with not particularly enjoying riding."

"That is not what your mother thinks. I'm a Countess, I should be an excellent horsewoman. Isn't that what she says?"

"But it is not what I, or anyone else that knows you at all thinks. Besides, you do ride, it's just not often." She chuckles softly, he really can be very sweet sometimes. It doesn't stop her mind flickering to the events from over thirteen years ago that had left her with such an aversion to riding.

"It's hardly at all these days." She feels Robert stiffen beside her as she whispers the words. Her hand reflexively fingering her dress where it covers her stomach.

"Cora-" there's a warning in his voice. A hesitance that suggests he really doesn't want to discuss this. Not now, not today.

"I remember you teaching me to ride before you proposed. How you walked alongside me to begin with always being positive about how I was doing. And then the times when we would go out together around the estate. I do miss that but somehow I just can't-" Her voice cracks awkwardly and when she tries to carry on speaking no words come.

"Cora nobody expects you to. What happened was something that every woman-"

"Not every woman though Robert. Women don't miscarry because they are stupid enough to go out riding in ghastly weather when they're pregnant. That's only me." She looks up from her lap as she sighs very heavily, his eyes are full of concern. Once, a long time ago that would have been very soothing. But now, somehow it just makes her more upset about what they had lost that day.

"Cora, the circumstances...you weren't thinking straight. Everyone does silly things when they're upset."

"Silly maybe, but not selfish. I was selfish that day. So selfish I took away our baby's life."

"Cora, you shouldn't talk like that. You're not at all selfish, you never have been and you certainly weren't that day. Accidents happen."

"But-"

"No 'buts' Cora. You thought I was dead and you acted rashly and ended up having an accident, that is all. Now, what would you like to do while the house is empty?"

"But if it had been a little boy."

"So that's what's brought all this on, the belief that you should have given me an heir. Cora I've told you time and time again, it doesn't matter." He kisses the side of her face and she can't help but be comforted by his reassurance. But it doesn't change the fact that Matthew is now living in the village and none of it would have happened if she had produced a little boy to look after her daughter's rather then relying on them marrying strangers. "How about we read some Shakespeare together? Antony and Cleopatra perhaps?" She nods her head slowly as he squeezes her hand and gets up to locate their copy of the play on one of the shelves. Returning he hands her the book before kneeling down on the floor. "Lets take your shoes off so you can curl your feet onto the settee." His hand reaches beneath the hem of her skirt as he speaks. Ten minutes ago Cora would have been worried that he was going to make a pass at her, but not now, she knows he only wants to make her comfortable. She lets him unbuckle both her shoes as she finds the first page of the play and begins to read the stage directions aloud. She wonders at him having fetched the leather bound book, they both know the first page by heart.

She hooks her feet up beneath her as Robert sits back down beside her. He wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her backwards to rest against his side. His lips graze the side of her forehead as she settles in his embrace.

They read softly for some time, enjoying the words that they had always found soothing. They had a shared love for Egypt, something that in the early months of their marriage had offered her more solace than anything else. Somehow regardless of what was going on around them they could always discuss Egyptology.

"'Age cannot wither her not custom stale her infinite variety, other women cloy the appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where most she satisfies.'" Robert's voice drifts over Shakespeare's words, his favourite ones of the whole play. Cora cannot believe they have sat and read for so long that they are now well into the second act. She knows he's going to pause before he does, his hand tightening a little on her waist. "That's true you know. You have the ability to make me hungry all the time." His voice is warm and husky against her neck. She blushes immediately, however often he might have whispered that to her as they have read this play, it never fails to make her blush. If anything, as she has matured she has found it more gratifying to know that he did still enjoy the more intimate parts of marriage. She swallows to maintain her composure before she answers him.

"I'm sorry if I've rather ruined what plans you had for this morning. I will make it up to you I promise." His hand covers hers on the edge of the book, he eases it away from the pages and interlocks his fingers with hers.

"My intentions may have been different Cora. But sitting here, reading together is perfectly enjoyable, particularly when you blush so prettily." He turns their joined hands over so her wrist is facing upward and he trails a line of kisses over her pulse beneath the lacey cuff of her sleeve. She feels her cheeks redden again and she lets her head fall back to lie in the crook of his neck.

"Robert...?"

"Um?" He tilts his head towards hers and she shifts her body a little so she can keep her head resting on his shoulder while looking squarely into his eyes.

"Kiss me." She can see his initial shock, the trepidation that is clouded behind his eyes – it is not a demand she makes outside of the confines of their bedroom – not often anyway, and no doubt since breaking down earlier he is even more weary.

She knows when he's made his decision because the hand he has wrapped around her back loosens it's hold on her hip so she can turn more suitably towards him.

His nose touches hers before his lips drop a featherlight touch against her own. She can sense him deliberating whether to pull away so she lifts her chin a little higher so their lips meet once more. It isn't often they have an empty house and she wasn't going to let the opportunity pass her by. A few stolen kisses in the library won't hurt.

She knows he has no intention of trying anything more daring, not in the library, not after their conversation from earlier.

"Cora?" He whispers her name between two kisses. "We've got the rest of this play to read."

"And here I was thinking you were going to try and seduce me this morning." He chuckles softly before turning back to the play that he has already begun to read softly into her ear.

When she is reading her parts he presses kisses to her neck, and every so often she allows him the luxury of sealing her lips with his. Infrequently the play is forgotten and they discuss something else for a while. Robert also takes it upon himself to tickle her at one point which results in her almost falling off the settee.

They eventually get to the final act of the play only for the sound of horses hooves on the gravel outside to alert them to the time - the hunters are back.

She sits up, stretching her legs out from underneath her and rotating her neck a little to try and dislodge the slight stiffness on one side.

"I better get my shoes back on." Robert shifts forward on the seat, abandoning the play on the little table.

"I'll do it." He lowers himself to the ground and rearranges the position of her shoes by her feet, allowing her to just slide her feet into them. He places his thumb at the back, like a shoe horn, to stop her misshaping the leather back by getting it caught beneath her foot.

He buckles them up next and Cora can't help but squirm a little as he runs his fingers over her feet, making sure the leather strap is flat and not too tight. Not only does it tickle but it makes her feel like she's in the shop having her shoes fitted and the thought of Robert being any kind of assistant in a shop serving women makes her smile.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It was just a silly image of you being a shop assistant." He chuckles softly and stands. He kisses the top of her head before helping her to her feet.

"Come on, we better go meet these riders." She keeps hold of the hand he had offered her, stretching her fingers into their position between his.

"Thank you for sitting with me Robert. I'm sure you had things to do and – "

"You're my wife Cora, no thanks are ever required and it was certainly more enjoyable than all the things I had to do." He kisses her knuckles as he opens the library door with his free hand. The sound of the returning riders echoes in the saloon. They drop their joined hands as she steps through the doorway ahead of him. Cora the wife was now gone, in her place stands the Countess her mother-in-law had trained her to be.

* * *

AN: Okay, first off, I hope you enjoyed that, and please leave a review if you did.

Secondly, I kind of just posted this little drabble (although there will be more) because I wanted to give those of you that keep messaging me about my new pre-canon story an update in one place (because that's easier for me!).

It is progressing but my summer holiday turned out to be a lot more crowded than I thought and without the routine of university I struggled to fit in writing. I am back now and already I have written half of another chapter. But because of the lack of progress over the summer I think my posting date of October/November is a little out! I am hoping, and praying that I can have it all wrapped up by January! I am sorry for the delay but in the mean time I will post as many of these drabbles as I can AND I am reading everyone's stories even if I don't always review...for which I apologise (reading late at night on my phone is not best for remembering to review!). God bless you all.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So, lots of big hugs to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This one is set after Mary tells Cora that Mathew has proposed in S1E6. Robert enters the room just as the conversation is ending, and I always wondered what happened after that, particularly as, at this point, unknown to the characters, Cora is actually pregnant. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review which will motivate me with more little one shots and, hopefully, my pre-canon multi-chapter fic. I apologise for any errors I have only briefly read it through.

Cobert love to you all.

* * *

Robert watches Mary leave with a set of emotions that confuse him. He should be ecstatic that he has been left alone with Cora so promptly, but there had been something in Mary's parting remark, something that Robert wasn't sure he liked.

Was it really news to Mary that her parents slept together? Almost certainly not, so why had she made the point so explicitly with a twinkle glittering in her eyes that reminded him of when she had been a mischievous little girl.

Letting his thoughts settle as he removes his dressing gown, he turns them instead to Cora's more recent behaviour. Although perhaps 'behaviour' was the wrong word because how she behaved was always exemplary. It was not her behaviour in general that was strange lately, it was her emotions and desires towards him which had become much more heightened than they had been.

He only had to enter the room the other night and his dressing gown had been forcibly removed, and all his coherent thoughts had been lost—replaced by the sensations Cora's hands and lips caused to swell within him.

She doesn't move towards him tonight, which serves to reiterate the feeling within him that whatever Mary had come to tell her mother was something significant enough to not only put her in a happy, teasing mood, but had also distracted Cora from her more recent 'habits'.

"What was it Mary wanted?" He turns back the covers on the bed. Lifting his legs to slide easily between the high quality bedding. When the silence from Cora's side of the bed continues, he turns his attention to actually look at her.

She is chewing the inside of her lips gently, her eyes fixed on where her hands are on her lap. When he turns she looks instantly up. Any other person might have missed the flash of the wide grin across her face that makes her eyes sparkle. It lasts only a millisecond, before her face returns to the controlled smile that he is far more attuned to because it is the one that lights her face the majority of the time.

"Cora, I am not Mama, I know every expression that lights up your face. Am I to assume that Mary came to see you with some very exciting news?" His own face begins to stretch into a wide smile, there wasn't much news from Mary that would make Cora so happy, which could only mean that Matthew had finally proposed. His mind settles on that matter, the entail no longer a problem, his eldest daughter the future Countess of Grantham. No doubt there will be a little grandson for him to teach the ways of the estate to.

Lost in his fantasies he doesn't see the way Cora's gaze drops from his, and the bright smile falters, a crease across her forehead taking its place. When he does focus his attentions back on her, there is admittedly a slight furrowing of her brow, but nothing to the extent of the one he had missed. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to, Cora reads the question in his face.

"She hasn't accepted him yet, she says she needs to think about it."

"What?! Is she mad?" He turns his body in the bed so he is completely looking at her.

"It is a big decision, Robert. She's being sensible not to take it lightly." His eyes widen in shock, just a few weeks ago she had been panicking about Mary's prospects. In fact, she had been in tears one night and on another occasion he knows she didn't get any sleep.

"But this is Matthew, Cora. Matthew, whom she has been in love with practically since she saw him."

"There are still considerations, Robert." She looks at him with that expression which he knows is a warning, it's telling him to stop, to not push her too far. But like he has done before, he ignores it.

"Cora, that's rubbish, and you know it is! The only consideration is whether she definitely likes him, and we know she does. She isn't you, she isn't going to be giving up anything to marry Matthew! In fact, she's going to gain an awful lot of things back that the law has taken from her." Cora's eyes narrow at him, and she takes a visible gulp which he knows is to steady her nerves. She hated him getting angry, and when it is aimed at her she always shies away. She had never been very confrontational when he yelled at her—not when she felt it wasn't her he should be getting at, anyway. They argue, sometimes, of course, but that was not, as she would no doubt tell him tomorrow, 'the same as when you are just trying to make an argument.'

"It is still a big step for her Robert, and one she is right not to take lightly."

"Being married is not a big step, Cora. Not for Mary who has been preparing for it her whole life. And this choice certainly isn't difficult, it's Matthew!" Her eyes flash, and he instinctively shuffles into the bedding a little more.

"I'm sorry Robert, but marriage for any woman is a big step. Even Mary who—" But here she suddenly stops. Her mouth seems to slam shut and then opens a little. It seems as though whatever she was about to say she had realised was not to be mentioned to him. Robert frowns.

"Cora?"

"Sorry, I...it doesn't matter. I just...I think you're actually right. Goodness, they've been dancing around each other long enough, I'm sure Matthew would much rather know where he stands." She laughs, but it's a strained laugh. Is he missing something? Before he can think of what that might be, he is accosted by her cold hand slipping beneath his pyjama shirt—it seemed her newfound desires had not vanished at all.

"Cora, I–"

"Before you even think of saying anything, no isn't a word I understand." He is, as always with Cora, completely cornered, if she wants anything he is powerless, and in this case more than most. His confusion over her change of emotion earlier is gone, his thoughts lost in far more favourable pursuits.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This one is set on that walk in series 2, that they 'kind of' with Mary and Sir Richard. They were a long way ahead, and the narrative focuses on Mary and Richard - so I wanted to write about what Cobert might have discussed. It hasn't been checked other than by me, so I am sorry for any mistakes.

As you know, I am meant to be writing and posting in the new year my young Cobert fic but things are not going to plan - my life is incredibly hectic and it is a lucky week if I so much as open the document. Therefore I am going to make no more promises about when it will appear - only that it will (and that I promise bc I love it, and I love Cobert!).

Please in the mean time enjoy this (and the Cobert week that I am very honoured to be taking part in next week!).

* * *

Their feet crunch through the dewy grass and the harsher bracken. They don't speak, what was there to say when they know exactly what the other thinks about Sir Richard after a few brief sentences.

The beating of their feet continues as they near the lake, Robert's stick swishing through the foliage at equal pace.

Staring out at the lake her mind drifts to far happier memories here. Memories in which the lake had looked warm and inviting rather than shrouded and unforgiving. There's patches of ice where the cold night had allowed it to freeze over. She pulls her tweed more tightly around her - never had she found the lake so little to her taste. Usually the water calmed her nerves and brought to the surface memories of picnics as a bride and Rosamund's late husband challenging Robert to silly races through the water. Those things always brought a smile to her face. But not today.

Marmaduke's absence only reminded her that Britain was once again at war. Not just Britain this time though, but the world. Maybe it would be Matthew that didn't come home this time?

"Do you think Rosamund will ever find happiness again?" Robert's words startle her from her own thoughts on her sister-in-law's late husband.

"I was just thinking about Marmaduke too, the lake often makes me reflect on him."

"That doesn't answer the question Cora." She glances up at him, to find him watching her steadfastly. She shivers, a breeze skimming across the top of the lake and taking her by surprise. She folds her arms, but she isn't actually sure if that is because of the cold or a reaction to Robert's question, that she would very much like not to have to answer.

"What do you think? She's your sister, you know her far better than I do."

"Cora, I want to know what you think." She feels uncomfortable, as though the question he is posing to her is not really the one he wants answered.

"I think that I can understand why she thinks Marmaduke is irreplaceable. She loved him a great deal, and that is hard to equal. But, I also think that all is not lost, that there is always a chance of coming across someone else whom you love, if not entirely like you loved that first person. For Rosamund I think that is more likely to be lost, she's spent long enough alone that her loneliness no longer scares her and she is a woman of rank, there is a lot to lose if she marries. Above all that though, it took her long enough to find Marmaduke." She looks up at him wearily, but his expression is impossible to read. He seems to be deep in thought. A minute or so passes in complete silence before he says anything.

"What would you have done if it had been me?" She doesn't need to ask what he means. This is most certainly the question he had really been curious about. A conversation that she had refused time and time again to have. She had always told him it wasn't worth discussing—he had survived and was here with her, and that was all that mattered. The truth was she didn't know the answer. She had refused to let herself put time to thinking about it.

"I don't know. My instinct might have been to run back to America but I wouldn't have taken the girls and I certainly would never have been able to leave them. I suppose the true question is what would James have done with us when he inherited?" A stormy silence echoes between them, that was a death that hadn't really brought any of them much grief.

"Mama would have looked after you. I can see her now having you all in the Dower house if it came to it!" Cora laughs, she can't help it. The image of her sat with her vibrant young girls in Mama's drawing room, their toys all over the place was quite an image. If she was that young woman she would have said that Robert's idea was mad - that Violet didn't like her enough. But Cora knows now that she would have done it, not just for her grandchildren but because it is what would have been right.

"I'm sure we would have had a wonderful laugh. But I'd be lying if I said it would have been the same. It wouldn't have been, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course." He reaches between the gap to give her hand a hard squeeze. A noise behind them causes him to break the contact, their peaceful quiet interrupted by the return of Mary and Sir Richard.


	4. Chapter 4

Series 2, episode 4

AN: I can only apologise for how long this has taken me. My life has taken some time consuming turns this year and writing took a very very back seat. But I'm back! The last week and a half has brought on a great deal of writing. My pre-canon story (which had sat dormant since this time last year and that I hope you're all still looking forward to) found a new lease of life and I'm hoping to have that finished by the end of the summer and posting in September. This time I am determined! And with that has come another one-shot for you to enjoy.

This one is set in series 2, episode four. I always wondered how those lovely red roses that we see on Cora's desk when she has THAT fight with Isobel came from. So, this is my take which (because I can't get enough) involves a romantically challenged Robert ending up in another of his messes that we just want to hug him for! I hope you enjoy and if you do (or don't) a review is greatly appreciated!

* * *

He takes them gently from the gardeners hand, amazed at how crimson red they are—perhaps a reminder of all the poor men who were losing their lives in France.

The petals are so delicate making it so easy to see why the Rose had become a symbol of love. It's delicacy seemed to perfectly amplify the delicacy of love, how it always seems to exist on some kind of precarious life event but never ever permanently falls through the crevice.

He had never liked red roses until he had met Cora. Red always seemed to be a colour that suggested death, or something uncomfortable and to be avoided. But then Cora had entered his life and there was no other colour rose he would ever dream of giving her. It was because she looked so beautiful in red—it was his favourite colour on her. That association, rather than love, made him always pick her red roses.

He bypasses the front door on his return from the gardens. Instead he keeps walking and enters the house by the servants door. He'd ran in and out of that door many a time as a child but it was seldom that he used it now. That wasn't a choice based on his position as Earl it was merely that he hated the way the servants all had to move out of his way if he entered this way. Pots and pans would be dropped as they all straightened themselves to attention. It felt like an abuse of his position - invading their space too readily.

He opens the back door as quietly as he can and slips it shut behind him. Mrs Hughes immediately exits her office room at the sound of the door.

"M'lord, is there anything–"

"I'm quite alright thank you Mrs Hughes, just endeavouring to take these flowers to Lady Grantham."

"Very well. Might I fetch you a vase for them? It will save her having to ring for one?"

"Yes, yes. That might be a good idea." Mrs Hughes smiles sweetly and steps into the kitchen to locate one. She finds a suitable sized one and filling it with water she hands it to him. He thanks her and makes his way towards the stairs. He's thankful Carson doesn't seem to be in his office and except a couple of the maids the servants hall is empty - no surprise when everyone was having to work twice as hard due to the shortage of staff.

He makes his way up the stairs as fast as he dares when he's carrying a vase of water.

He steps onto the upstairs landing and heads straight to Cora's sitting room. Usually when he brought flowers he would just take them to their bedroom but not today. Not at the moment. Cora had taken to spending hours in the little boudoir room that she uses to write her letters and plan house events. Since the house had become a convalescent home she seemed to spend the entirety of her time there (aside from sleeping). He was pleased she was occupied and happy but he couldn't help feeling that work had seemed to take his place in her agenda - he hoped the giving of flowers would help her to see that he felt a little isolated and unhappy.

He knocks gently on the door but when no sound comes from within he gently opens it. The room has dust sheets covering many of the pieces of furniture - Cora has interrupted the servants annual cleaning of this room when she had demanded that she needed to use it.

She sits on the chair, her back to him. She doesn't turn at his entrance.

"Just wait one second." She might be speaking to a servant, the thought of which makes Robert's stomach twist uncomfortably.

When had their marriage come to this? When had they become so opaque to each other, rather than transparent. Had he done something wrong? He realises that he probably hadn't done anything directly wrong. There were a multitude of reasons they had reached here. The war and his feeling of inadequacy and Cora, well Cora had not only found something to do but she has spent the first two years of the war grieving herself. She would never admit it, but Robert knew the loss of their son had weighed deeply upon her. It weighed deeply upon him in the darker moments and in those initial feelings of inadequacy, but he had moved past it when Cora had not. Could not. He could only imagine the pain she must have felt. He had only endured the emotional stresses of knowing he had lost a child. He did not have he memories of the physical pain, or the dynamic changes Dr Clarkson explained his wife would feel due to the change of chemical balance in the body - not just after but while she had been pregnant, all culminating in a far greater emotional response. She had experienced more than Robert could ever fathom long before she'd slipped in the bathroom and long after it. Looking back on it he realises they've never spoken about it, never grieved together, and that could well have been a mistake that had left them drift so easily when the war began. They didn't have a chance to grieve because they felt as though they might be about to experience much worse. They had thought the death of an unknown child not important enough in the face of millions of men dying on a war field. That Robert now knows, was wrong.

"Oh Robert. I didn't realise it was you." She stands rather hurriedly. Smoothing down the front of her dress. It reminds him of when she was still Miss Levinson - always seemingly conscious she needed to make herself look better. She didn't then, and she doesn't now. He appraises her dress, the simple dark colour with the stripes of white down it, and pulled in closely at the waist with a large belt. Very practical.

"I didn't mean to interrupt." He wants to take the words back the moment he has said them. He sounds like a servant, rather than her loving husband bringing her flowers. "I, err, well I had these picked for you. It's been a while since I gave you flowers and well, you better take them." She takes the vase from him, gently turning it in her hands so she can see all the roses, she even inhales deeply over them to breathe in the scent before placing them on her desk.

"I think, maybe, what you were trying to say was that you wanted to give me flowers?" Her eyes are bright as they turn back to him, dancing with a hint of the mirth she reserves for looks across the dining room table to him when something amusing is going on.

"Yes. Yes, I did. You deserve them, you've been working so hard." He groans internally again, angered with himself. That is not what they were for at all. They were a symbol of his love for her, his devotion, of him trying to find his way back to her, not her work.

"Yes. Well, there is lots to be done."

"I best leave you to it then."


End file.
